RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Rhythms continue beating, taking our hearts along with them, marching to tempos of beats while moving quickly through melodies touching the heart and spirit of our souls.

Thinking always touching mind and intellect in their open and joyful moments of captivating, tantalizing meanings as they then open like a rose.
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Mind thinking and feeling a quiet peace that never disturbs this thought process, only opens it wider, letting in moments of a concept as it's being created and developed innately.

Nothing to hinder its presence as it enters intellect, taking meanings and definitions into other dimensions silently and rapidly through coded rhythms constantly being listened to.
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Feeling lazy, laid-back, quietly contemplating interiorly within the context of God and being, relating in one way or another to each other.

Lying back, feeling love and mercy being bestowed upon this mere poet every moment of this extraordinary yet temporary life on earth.
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Fingers crossing ivories of a piano or accordion while listening and reading music expertly, loving beats and tempos as they fall from an interior waterfall into ideas.

Concepts and thoughts being created and developed silently where poetry's heart and soul is naturally filling the spirit of this mere poet.
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Rushing quickly into recesses of this mind, allowing an innate musical talent to touch and take mind and intellect into secret gardens of explanations and beauty.

Their imagery bright, vivid and lively, turning every little detail into a poem then into and out of mazes of definitions and meanings.
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Waiting and listening to music with both sides of this brain and mind, not knowing how it's being done, just always picking up a pen and writing poems one after another.

A pleasant and delightful way to thing and create in rapid ways of succession, sequences coming together with an innate development automatically.
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Taking off, soaring away in beautiful rhythms as they carry this mind and intellect, having fun and joining innately with coded rhythms of music.

Their sounds bursting quietly into colors, their auras being tasted by this mind, a feel good energy being emptied into this being automatically and sensitively.
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Listening to people talking, but not understanding what they're saying because music on a CD is playing and tending to the needs of a poet's essence in rhythms.

Sensitively feeling emotions and feelings that come from depths of every melody being played, sometimes bringing tears to fall.
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Outside lights being turned on against an evening sky that's fading into darkness slowly, never regretting the silence and hidden landscapes and imagery.

Knowing that all will be seen in the light of a morning sun-shine, thinking and feeling a positive energy as it vibrates within this mere poet.
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Steadily listening to drums beating and taking this mind away into another dimension where all is memorized upon a photographic screen throughout this entire lifetime.

Puzzle pieces falling within this waterfall, waiting to swim around in the pool below, there creating words and meanings of every line in poems being written.
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